Listen to My Story
by A.Stone
Summary: Tom talks about his past (i don't know how to write a summary for this...)


Disclaimer: I do not own anything or anyone in the Harry Potter novels, J.K.Rowling does.

Note: Tom talks about what he had been through. Everyone who has tragic pasts ought to write angst fictions to remain sane. ;) Yes, I know that a lot of writers out there wrote about Tom's life… and everything, they're great authors and authoress, all of them. Really, they're wonderful, believe me! I hope you'll find pleasure reading this, although it might not be that good. I apologize for any offenses or errors; this fiction is 100% free from character bashing. ::YAY!::

Listen to My Story

Let me tell you a story. No, it is not something that some people with perfect lives might want to read. Those people prefer fairy tales, where everything ends happily ever after and they kiss and laugh. Life just isn't that way, if so; I could not remember anyone having a life like that. Well, maybe, just maybe, some people are born with lives that are exactly like fairy tales. I will have to tell you then, that mine isn't made that way. I cannot tell exactly when I've ever felt happy about anything. I only know that stories cannot be trusted, good ones or bad ones. Characters in happy stories are way too sappy and characters in evil stories die too early. I'm sure mine isn't like that. I failed so many times, but I refuse to let myself go down just yet. So, say hello to the evil character of my story- Me. Tom Marvolo Riddle. I normally don't go around calling myself an evil character, mind you. I know that you all dismiss me easily as the evil Tom, the sadistic, introverted and power starved boy. I am more than just that. So listen to whatever I want to say, roll your eyes, grit your teeth, whatever it is. Just listen.

I was born, on what day, what year, it does not matter. The thing is that I was born without any of my parents there to welcome me to earth. Does that matter? Well, not really. It doesn't really bother me that much, especially when tons of kids are probably living the same life I've had. When I am old enough, I was told that my father left my mother, who died giving birth. I thought that my father was nothing but a fuggin' playboy, somebody who didn't even care about his family but only about his own pleasures… let me continue! What angered me most is that my mother is left to die and I swear that if I were as old as I am now, I would have saved her then. But I was nothing but a bawling baby. I knew nothing about broken families, I only find myself growing up with tons of kids of all ages, who suffered the same fate. Now, I wish somebody could just lie to me about how I've never seen my parents. A lie about them dying is probably more satisfying than knowing that my father is a good-for-nothing lying cheating LOSER. I began to hate myself, knowing that I have my father's blood. I don't want to have ANYTHING to do with him, let alone share the same blood! As I grow older, I start to think that I might someday repeat what my father did, that is why I avoided the opposite sex.

I was quite friendly with some kids too. Normally those who are younger than me, especially those who did not know anything about despair. I would think that I was once just like them and start reminiscing. I liked to see their innocent faces but that did not last long because some of them might actually grow up to me just like me. A soul who does not find pleasure in anything, and that will be the time when they will watch other younger kids and think about their past, just like what I am doing now… Oh, whom am I kidding? Did I actually think that everyone in the orphanage would have a deformed soul like mine? No way. Just another one of my fantasy.

I would usually sit there on the floor, hugging my knees and letting the sunlight burn my face. And I would start to think about my father. Where is he now? What is he doing? What does he _look_ like? Then the fantasies will start coming…Fantasies about how I will someday meet my father, although I do not recognize him, he might call out to me. How could he not? After all, this is just a fantasy, MY fantasy. Anything I want it to happen will happen. I imagined myself walking down the streets of London, thoughts racing through my head (as always). Then suddenly, a voice will call my name. I will turn and meet a man, his faced blurred (because I can't think of a face he could have, I don't want him to look like me) and he will stand there and stare at me as I gaped back at him. Soon, his reveals that he is my father, and I will… do what? Punch him hard? Scream, yell, and strangle him? Yes, I do have violent fantasies. Sometimes if I am calm enough, I will just grab his collar and shake him hard. I want him to hurt as much as I did! No, that is not good enough for him. I want him to feel the pain my mother and I had been through. I don't care if the police turned up and dragged me to jail and gave me a death sentence. I want him dead…

Of course that is just a fantasy. Even if I happen to walk past my real dad, he won't even bother to look up at me, let alone call my name. The matron would read us all a story off the Bible and I would just sit there with a glazed look. The stories in the Bible are just crossovers of the real life and magic. Isn't it great if I'm just like Jesus, isn't it great to heal everybody's pain and sorrow, teach them right from wrong... I think it is great because I desperately need someone to heal me now. Matron shouldn't have told me how everyone in the orphanage is different from others outside in the real world. She shouldn't have told me about my parents. Of course, I shouldn't have asked. But why should I live life without knowing why I am the way I am? So there are perfect people out there, I would think as I stared bitterly out my window. People whose parents wouldn't leave them. Don't you think I want to be like them? Of course I did! I can't have anyone to blame because my filthy father isn't there for me to take my anger out on. That is why I decided to curse myself for being a son of his, although I'm sure it is not my fault that I am born. This then lead to anger on my mother for putting me here. Everyday life in the orphanage is filled with despair and anger for me, sometimes Felix… I'll tell you who that was afterwards, anyway, he would take my mind off that but sometimes I really wished that someone would just… heal my wretched soul.

It was another one of those sunny days when I would just sit down and welcome another fantasy, each one more violent than the other, when an owl flew into the room. The matron wasn't in by then and some of the children had gathered around the owl, admiring it. They've only seen owls off picture books, so who could blame them. I realized that it had dropped a letter onto the floor right in front of me. It stared at me with huge big brown round eyes, flapped its wings and divided its attention to other children when they reached out to touch it. "It's so fluffy!" squealed Felix a boy aged about eight. I like that kid, he's one of the most innocent one from them all. I snatched the letter and read the address. To Tom Marvolo Riddle. That's me of course. Who in the world would know about a useless and hopeless teenager who counted number of possible deaths he could cause to his father at night in order to go to sleep? Anyway, I read the letter and I realized that I had been chosen to enter a school named Hogwarts. Oh, so maybe it is addressed to the wrong person then. My chance of getting into a school is as likely as meeting my father out on the streets. Anyway, I decided to keep the letter so that I can imagine myself as one of those normal people who could attend school. Of course matron taught us well. Matron told me that I am too smart for my own good. At least I hope she wasn't lying to me to make me feel better.

Day after day owls came and delivered the same letter. Matron read one of the letters and dismissed it as a joke. But the mails kept on coming; I bet the children were starting to get bored with the owls then. One night, as I was having another violent fantasy of kicking my father while he writhed on the cobble- stoned pathway in pain, a shadow appeared and stood at the end of my bed. All the other children were fast asleep; I knew that it couldn't be Felix. Usually, Felix would wake me up by pouncing on my sleeping figure in the morning. I never got annoyed with him anyway; I hated no one else worse than my father and the people of the outside world. As I was saying, the shadowy figure stood there and observed me for a while. I suddenly thought of my father. The figure made a sudden decision and stepped up to me quietly. "Tom," it whispered, its voice soft as the wind. I didn't fear because I was usually void of all feelings except anger and despair. "Leave me alone," I whispered back. It was too dark. I couldn't see its face. "Do not fear me, Tom," it said. "I've come to take you to Hogwarts, where you can meet people of your own kind. Leave this place of sorrow and pain." I restrained myself from sitting up and yelling at it. "This place is already filled with people of my own kind. And I do not fear you. Leave," I said through gritted teeth, although I did not know what it had said to set me off. The figure leaned over me. "You do not belong here. Come with me," it persisted. Oh, I get it. Maybe this is the Grim Reaper. Maybe I died for some reason. I don't care how; I only know that I am going to leave everything behind. As I sat up quietly, the figure did not question me on my sudden cooperation. It placed an envelope on my bed and instructed me to follow it outside.

Yes, it is such an unbelievable thing I am telling you, but please let me finish so that you can voice your opinions later. As I passed by Felix's small figure, buried under the blanket, I reached over and placed my pendant (a bear's claw which my matron claimed, was worn around my mother's neck when she died) on top of one of his storybooks, maybe fairy tales but it doesn't matter. I'm going to leave anything that might remind me of my pain behind. Keeping something that belongs to my mother might still bring back my endless fantasies. He's my favorite kid in this orphanage anyway. We do have our wonderful days. He would laugh at my dislike for fairy tales. That didn't stop him from reciting the stories that he'd read, although I might have my head hidden under a pillow. Felix will then laugh and wrench the pillow away from me and loudly proclaim that everyone lived happily ever after. He would laugh that hiccup laughter that he is well known for and I just can't help joining in. I'm going to miss him… but I didn't stand around for long. I scolded myself for wasting time and quickly but carefully ran to catch up with the Grim Reaper.

That was my story years ago. All I know now is that I've not been lead to Hell and that figure didn't turn out to be the Grim Reaper. Well, here I am, in Hogwarts, a school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Here, I was told the real reason how my family broke. My mom was a witch. Do you think I should regret having all those violent fantasies? NO. Witch or not, dad should have been there for her. He should just rot in hell. I haven't found anyone like Felix here. I'm really sorry for leaving him like that. Will he be able to go on without his friend, Tom? What is he thinking of now? Oh God, I just realized something… I've left Felix exactly the way my father left my mom! After all these years… I thought that I could stop myself from hurting someone else that way my father did… I thought I understood what it feels like to be left alone… but Felix isn't exactly alone anyway. _But I am his only friend!_ How could I have been so heartless? Enough of this, I've told you more than what you should know. Now start complaining. Go on.

The mirror sighed. "It is not good to think that way, dear…" "I should…forget everything… it hurts too much to know all this…" Tom looked at his reflection miserably. "You're been through a lot, dear," offered the mirror, voice filled with pity. "It felt good to let everything out. Thanks for listening but… I'm not going to mope around like a fool anymore," he said, voice filled with strength. Right before his very eyes, he saw himself recovering from everything. Tom is strong, although not physically. He knows how to handle his emotions but just for today, he had decided to let go of all those things that he had ever worried about. He knew that no amount of complains, screams, yells, tantrums or even violent fantasies can correct everything… because there is nobody there to heal him, and he knew that he had to heal himself to survive. _Because nobody cared._ And on that day… that very day, Tom Marvolo Riddle didn't bother to know anything about anybody's problems, he no longer retrieve his past sorrows. He no longer cared; he is totally void of any emotions now. He felt no despair, no pain… although he might still look human; his soul is nothing near to being human. Nothing mattered, he knew that by getting good grades he will find a solution one day to repay them all for what he is now. _Curse a world that hard to live in._

Author's note: Was it depressing? Gosh, I didn't mean to… well make you depressed. It just came out that way, honest! I'm really sorry! Well, hope you liked it… wait, how can you like it if it causes depression… oh well, don't worry, you're not supposed to be sad now that it's the season to be jolly! Actually, Felix thinks of Tom as his older brother but Tom, being who he is, doesn't know that… You know the thing about how he doesn't understand love. If Santa said anything about you being sad, blame it on this fiction! Yeah!! Hehe, just be jolly. Sorry again for ruining your day… I didn't mean to, really~~~ If you are still quite alright after reading this, please tell me what you think of it, please? I wrote this on behalf of all those frustrated- with- life people out there!! No, please don't flame me, I'm already depressed enough, thanks. Yeah well, thanks for reading! At least you can do that much to humor me!! =) SMILE!


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